Playing with Fire
by Cascading Rainbows
Summary: He can't remember when the awful transition from an ambitious genius to this destructive creature began, but he wishes that he could wish it away. Forever. /Winner of Syberian Quest's June 2011 Prompt Challenge.


**Playing with Fire**

"C'mon, please?"

"Seeing as it almost set fire to the house last time, I'd go against it."

Ned considers the results of his latest invention. Yes, on its first trial run his new eco-fuel had spontaneously oxidized and combusted, but he had managed to put out the fire in a matter of minutes! "I need to make tweaks to the formula sooner or later! And besides, this is my big experiment. This could change the world's perspective of energy and fossil fuels!"

"But you've been experiencing neck stiffness and food cravings lately. Those are migraine symptoms. You can't risk more activity when a migraine is coming," Sinead argues.

"I'll be fine!"

Sinead stares at him with a slightly bemused expression. "Okay. Go ahead. But if our house explodes, it's your fault."

"Of course," he responds giddily, and takes off to his room.

On his desk lie a Bunsen burner, a flask of black liquid, a miniature car, safety goggles, and a white sheet of paper with dozens of ingredients listed in Ned's neat printing. Ned picks up the goggles, strapping them around his head, and ignites the Bunsen burner, careful to not make it too hot. He places the glass bottle on top of the burner, and carefully watches it simmer.

"Ned?" Ted hobbles into his room, cane in hand. "Ned, are you in here?"

"Yeah, I'm here!"

Ted pads into the room, and he sniffs the pungent scent of the air. "You're making something." Another sniff. "It smells of…gasoline."

Ned nods, but then he realizes his mistake. "Yes," he says aloud. "I'm making my eco-fuel. Later I'm going to test-drive it with my miniature car. I've included algae and corn in my concoction."

"Algae. That's smart." Ted comes closer, feels for a chair, and sits down. "I'll sit here while you make your fuel. I have nothing to do, really."

"Okay," Ned responds agreeably and takes the flask off of the burner. He studies his list of ingredients carefully. "I forgot one of the sulfurs," he remembers, and he reaches for the aluminum case under his desk.

Ned sets the case on the wood, and it opens easily with a satisfying _click_. Inside are more than a hundred small vials of different powders and minerals. He searches around the case for a minute, and he eventually finds the right vial. _Warning: Flammable_, it reads on the side. He pops open the cap, and he shakes some of the powder into the flask.

"It reeks of rotten eggs, Ned," Ted complains.

"Yeah, it's the sulfur," Ned returns. He silently watches the sulfur dissolve itself into his concoction.

Suddenly, he collapses.

Ned clutches his forehead desperately with his hands and attempts to push himself back up to a standing position, but his efforts prove futile. The throbbing drives him mad, and, like a heartbeat, it resounds in his brain. _Thump. Thump. Thump._

_Ned? Ned, are you all right? _A thundering voice hovers above him, and his eyes drift up to meet a blurry, pale circle bobbing up and down. Gray spots swim in his vision, and he wants to yell _stop_, but he can't. _Ned, is it a migraine? I told you._

_Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, _he slurs to the person above him, and the throbbing is too much for him to discern whoever the person is. Flashes of bright light flicker all around him. He feels around for something, anything, and he feels liquid, falling down and surrounding him. _Is that blood? My blood?_

_No, no, it's not,_ another earsplitting voice soothes, and he hears a scream far away. The smell of smoke engulfs him. A loud beeping is wailing in his ear.

_What is this?_ He coughs violently, and there's no response for a long time. He feels himself being carried away. _Where are you taking me? _

_Shush, Ned. You'll be all right. _The voice echoes as his consciousness slips away. _You'll be all right; you'll be all right…_

* * *

><p>He wakes up on the living room couch.<p>

"He's alive!" Sinead announces, and Ted gives a whoop from the other side of the room. "Do you remember anything yet?" She hands him a slightly warm cup of Earl Grey tea.

"No." Ned yawns and takes a sip from the teacup. "It'll probably come back to me later." He hands the cup back to his sister.

"It was a short one," Sinead supplies, setting the teacup down on a bamboo coaster. "Are you all right now?"

Ned bobs his head wearily, and he rubs his eyes, crusted with rheum. "I'm okay, bu—" He stops mid-sentence, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "Where's my fuel? Where's the—"

"Ned." Sinead hesitates for a moment. "When—when you collapsed of the migraine, you spilled the fuel, and it combusted. There was another fire."

"Great," he shakes his head. "Well, back to the drawing board, then—"

"Ned," Sinead interrupts, "have you memorized the formula to your fuel?"

"Of course not," Ned responds, irritated. "There are more than fifty ingredients in the fuel. Why and how in the world could I memorize that?" His sister sits there quietly. "Well?"

Sinead bites her lip and fiddles her thumbs. "Well, you may have…burnt up the paper in the fire." Before Ned can protest, she hastily adds, "And you also may have…set fire to the whole house."

"What?" Before Ned says anything, it registers in his mind that the couch that he is laying down on is not his couch, and that the room he is in is not his room. "Where am I? Why are we here?"

"It's a...temporary apartment," she explains quietly. "Our parents are working right now, as you know, so they're going to look for a new house later." She pauses. "I'm—I'm sorry."

"No." He abruptly sits up. "No, I couldn't have done this. It's not my fault, Sinead, it's _not my fault_!"

"Sit back down," Sinead replies firmly. He obliges reluctantly. "You were in a state of vertigo, and you completely fell down. Your arm swept over your desk, and everything fell to the floor."

Ned shakes his head slowly, then faster. "No, I would've never been that careless. No, Sinead—"

"I'm going to go now." Sinead sighs. "Shout if you need anything." A pause. "I'm really sorry, Ned." And with that, she stands up with a heavy sigh and disappears around a corridor.

After a sickeningly long moment of silence, Ned breathes out a long sigh. "What's become of me?" he whispers to himself. "I'm a…monster."

He considers the whole situation. He has forced his whole family to move out of their home, which he has burned to the ground, because he wasn't careful enough.

And all this began with a migraine.

Sinead had even warned him about working on the fuel! And he had ignored her, even when she had pressed on the subject.

With a furious growl, he pounds his fist on the table. He wishes that that fateful day never happened—when he, his brother, and sister, were caught in the explosion at the beginning of the clue hunt. When his brother became blind and his sister became marred with puckered scars. Now he is not able to use his intelligence for good. Now he is a dangerous burden.

He can't remember when the awful transition from an ambitious genius to this destructive creature began, but he wants to wish it away. Forever.

Then he realizes it can't be done. Science gets in the way of everything, and his migraines will restrict him forever. He will never be able to live up to his full potential. It frustrates him, how he could be capable of achieving greatness, but he has a disability now and that will never change.

"Sinead?" he croaks.

"Yeah?" He hears footsteps, and Sinead ambles toward him. "Do you need anything?"

"No. Just company, I guess. I'm not having the best day today," Ned replies weakly, and he forces out a laugh.

Sinead halfheartedly joins in, a discordant harmony. "I can give you that."

And that will have to be enough for now.

* * *

><p><em>I definitely understand you if you dislike this piece of mine.<em>

_See, I'm not good at writing under a specific time limit. It worsens the quality of my writing. However, I feel like this oneshot was experience for me, so I can do better with time limits from this moment forward._

_This was for __**Syberian Quest's June prompt: Freedom**__. Sy said that this could mean freedom from oneself, and in this oneshot, the freedom mentioned is freedom from Ned's migraines and such, which restrict him from reaching his full potential. Sy also said that the person could still be a "prisoner," and Ned still is restricted by his migraines._

_I also did some research for this oneshot! ;D All the things that happen to Ned during his migraine, such as seeing bright lights and voices being abnormally loud, are all symptoms of migraines. By the way, rheum is eye boogers. xD I just wanted to use more sophisticated vocabulary for the oneshot. _

_And to anyone who was confused: the liquid Ned feels is not his blood. It's the fuel that he was making. I hope I made that clear enough. :l And also, the mood change from before the migraine and during it was meant to be abrupt. ^-^ I wanted a total atmosphere change._

_Thanks so much to __**Sun Daughter, aka Summer, **__who beta-ed this, along with giving me the title of the oneshot. She got this back to me in a day after I told her that I needed this by the end of June. :) She's awesome, and also made my horrible oneshot much better. Also, you guys need to root for __**Jamie's Dream, aka Jamie**__. Send her your support, because she's been so flooded with homework that she wasn't able to beta for me. :( I send her the best of wishes. Good luck with everything, Jamie! _

_Review, please! Praise is loved, constructive criticism is needed, and flames are totally accepted, especially for this horrendous oneshot. I really need to end this author's note, so thanks for reading! _

_~Cascading Rainbows_

_EDIT AS OF 7/11/2011: Syberian Quest announced something very shocking yesterday: I won for June 2011. :O Thanks much to those couple voters. I really appreciate it. :D As you can now see, I've now earned bragging rights and have put it in the summary. Thanks again! :)_


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